Neville Longbottom: A Second Thought
by WhiskeyTangoFoxtrot
Summary: One-Shot, Complete. What does a flower and a letter have to do with bravery and growing up? Neville Longbottom in 6th Year. Read and Review.


**A/N: **This is the fourth one-shot of my "A Second Thought" series, taking place during the 6th book. Please feel free to check out my other works, as well as my multi-chapter fic, Daphne Greengrass and the 6th Year From Hell.

No warnings, and I own nothing . . .

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**Neville Longbottom: A Second Thought.**

**In the Gryffindor boys' dormitory at the beginning of October. . . .**

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It's really strange, not to mention a bit funny, how things work out, you know?

Believe me, I'm not complaining in the least.

First off, Gran got me a new wand at the beginning of the summer. That, in and of itself was great, but it was what she had said after she bought it from Ollivander himself . . .

"Frank and Alice would be proud of you boy. _I'm _proud of you . . . never been more so."

She then patted me on my shoulders and gave me a quick, firm nod. After a beat, Gran turned sharply around and walked out of the wandmaker's shop.

I've never held my breath so long. I think — wait, I _know _— that that was the first time I ever heard her say she was proud of me.

Proud?

_Proud._

I never would've thought I'd hear someone say they were proud of me. Let alone Gran.

I can only hope that if she _is _proud of me, that my mum and dad would be too.

Guess I won't ever really know, though. Right?

But, I can hear them, even if I can't remember what they sound like . . . I can hear them in my head. And they are saying they're proud of me, that they're happy about who I've grown up to be.

So, I'm at my desk in our dormitory, reading through _Moste Magickal Plantes of the Two Hemispheres_ by Frederick Florister. No, not for Sprout's class or anything. It's just for fun. There's always something new in that book, something that I've skipped over, that I've forgotten about . . . no matter how many times I read through it.

There's this plant, the Bennu Blossom. It's from Egypt. I _think_ the name is Egyptian or Greek, but the flower looks like a bird — the Bennu Bird, to be exact. The color of the blossom is red and gold, and the petals flutter like the Bennu's wings. I dunno why I'm so drawn to the Bennu Blossom . . . besides the fact that it shares the colors of Gryffindor House.

Maybe I like it because of what the name — "bennu" — means.

_Ascending One . . ._

_To rise brilliantly . . ._

I wanted to ask Professor Sprout if Hogwarts could get a Bennu Blossom for the Greenhouses. It might not have a real academic purpose or anything; it's really only a beautiful flower that opens up in a burst of fire as soon as the sun rises each morning and dissolves into gray dust at the end of the day.

But it keeps blooming.

It blooms, just as bright and as strong as it did the day before.

I'd just like to see one someday, y'know? I want to know what one looks like in person.

Maybe even see if I can get one for Mum and Dad. For their room . . .

Or, maybe not. I wouldn't want to catch St. Mungo's on fire when it re-blooms in the morning—

Whoops!

Oh, I'd _forgotten_! Hannah's letter.

I'm not sure what possessed me to write this out to Hannah Abbott. Hearing about her mum . . . I mean, I know there are other students here that've lost a loved one. But, I knew Hannah. She was one of us. One of Dumbledore's Army.

I knew her . . . and then she lost her mum.

I don't know what's worse. I don't know if it's worse that I see my parents and they don't know me and I don't really know them, or that Hannah and her mum knew each other for almost sixteen years, and now her mum's gone.

Maybe our loss and pain aren't equal, but it goes on and on, and it won't really end.

Maybe one's not supposed to hurt worse than the other.

Maybe . . .

Maybe, it's not the same . . . but it's not different, either.

Hannah should have someone she can talk to, someone her age to be a friend for her.

Maybe Ernie's already with her? Would I be intruding then?

I'm definitely not expecting anything to happen. I don't want to give her the wrong idea by sending this letter to her.

But I do know what it's like to really lose someone . . . someone you love.

If this letter helps her, any little bit, then I've succeeded, right?

After all, if I've lived through all of this, if I step foot into St. Mungo's every day that I'm home from school, and I go sit by Mum and Dad's bedsides and hold their hands and they don't ever say my name but Mum continues to give me her Drooble's gum wrappers because there's some part of her that still knows me and _knows_ I'm her son . . .

If I've lived through all of this, shouldn't I use it to help someone? Someone who really needs it?

That's what Harry did for us last year, with Dumbledore's Army.

I'm reading over my letter to Hannah again . . . and again. I want to make sure that I've got every word right, that I'm saying everything that I wanted to say.

Maybe I should have Hermione look it over for me really fast.

Or . . . maybe I should just trust myself. Just this once.

I should _trust_ that I'm doing a good thing for someone else.

And that I'm doing the right thing.

Yeah. It's good.

It'll do.

I roll it up, and seal it. Now, I know I've got some time to get down to the Owlery before curfew.

I gulp.

So . . . I'm a bit nervous to send the letter. But, a glimmer catches my eye. . . .

The D.A. Galleon.

I don't think it's silly to keep it on my desk, next to my bed. Nor do I think it's silly to carry it around with me in my pocket.

Every once in a while, I have to reach down and rub the coin, and then I remember last year . . . I remember the D.A. . . . I remember the final feast in first year, when Dumbledore gave me the points that put Gryffindor over the top . . . I remember confronting Bellatrix Lestrange . . . I remember standing before Harry, Ron and Hermione and telling them not to get Gryffindor into any more trouble . . . I remember telling Malfoy that I'm worth twelve of him. . . .

I remember my parents.

I touch the Galleon, once again. And next to it, I touch a Drooble's wrapper that I've had with me since this term began . . . the last one I got before I started back at Hogwarts.

I smile . . . and I pick up both, put them in my pocket, and make my way downstairs, holding Hannah's letter firmly in my hand.

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This is unbeta'd, so please let me know about any mistakes! 

The Bennu information comes from Wikipedia . . . it's based on an Egyptian bird which corresponds with the legend of the Phoenix.

I certainly hope you enjoyed this! Please feel free to let me know in a review. Much appreciated.


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